


Don't Look Away

by sherlockian4evr



Series: Trefoil Knot [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bottom!Sherlock, M/M, Spitroasting, Threesome - M/M/M, Top!Dimmock, Top!Lestrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 15:30:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5670964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockian4evr/pseuds/sherlockian4evr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just an *old fashioned* spitroast with Sherlock in the middle.</p><p>Beta read by <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlock1110/pseuds/Sherlock1110">Sherlock1110</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Look Away

**Author's Note:**

> I really needed to take a short break from the angst, but don't worry, the angst will resume tomorrow.

Sherlock knelt in the centre of the living room and watched as Greg Lestrade and Paul Dimmock stood near each other talking. He didn’t know what the two men had planned for him as he had deliberately avoided making any deductions. Well, some deductions had been made, he couldn’t turn his mind off completely. Still, for the most part, what was about to unfold was mostly a mystery to him.

Lestrade threw a calculating look in Sherlock’s direction, then reached out and drew Dimmock near. Greg carded his fingers through Dimmock’s hair then brought their lips together in a violent kiss.

Sherlock shifted on his knees, suppressing the little noise of impatience that threatened to escape him. It wouldn’t do for the other two men to see just how anxious he was for things to progress, if they did, they would drag this foreplay out intermittently.

Lestrade broke the kiss and took Dimmock’s hand. They took the few steps required to come to Sherlock’s side where they stood, looking down at him possessively.

“Go ahead,” Lestrade urged, “You can touch him if you like.”

Dimmock grasped Sherlock’s hair and tugged on it, tipping Sherlock’s head backwards. “He really is lovely, isn’t he, Greg?” Dimmock let go and Sherlock gave a little whine, darting his tongue out to run along his pink lips.

Greg stepped around behind Sherlock placing his hands on Sherlock’s shoulders. He pulled him backwards, bringing his head to rest against his growing erection. “Keep your eyes on Paul’s face. Don’t look away.”

“Yes, Sir.” Sherlock gave a little shiver as he felt Greg’s hands slide down from his shoulders to his chest. He gasped as the silver haired man pinched his nipples.

Dimmock went to his knees in front of Sherlock, reaching out to run a finger along his fully hard shaft. With a smile, closed his hand and stroked it a bit, feeling his warm and smooth length. “I don’t know what I was expecting,” Paul gave a self-deprecating laugh, “For him to be long and slender, maybe. Not thick like this.”

Sherlock’s mouth fell open as he strained forward, seeking a kiss that wasn’t forthcoming. He gave a little whine. Greg rocked against him once, then he stilled his hips. He wanted more than a simple rut. He pushed the consulting detective forward, forward, forward, until Sherlock went down on his hands and knees. Dimmock, having shuffled back, watched in fascination.

Lestrade ran his hands over Sherlock’s hips and arse, giving little possessive squeezes as he went, and then he ran his finger around Sherlock’s hole. The consulting detective moaned and looked up through his lashes, his wanton expression looking artless. It was more than Paul could resist, he rucked up his shirt and unfastened his trousers, shoving them down his thighs. When he thrust into Sherlock’s waiting mouth, he moaned. The younger man's mouth was moist and hot and, Christ, so talented!

Behind Sherlock, Greg had taken himself out and his cock was glistening with the lube he had applied. It bobbed, hard and heavy between his legs as he circled his finger around Sherlock’s hole, finally pushing just enough for it to be sucked in. 

Sherlock pushed back on Lestrade’s fingers, even as he sucked and licked at Paul’s cock. He wanted Greg inside him desperately. He wanted to be fucked and owned.

Lestrade’s fingers found Sherlock’s nipple once again and he rolled it between his thumb and forefinger, giving it a little pinch. Sherlock moaned around Paul’s cock, which Dimmock greatly appreciated.

“Fuck, yeah,” Paul panted. “Jesus, Greg. Do that again.”

“I’ll go you one better,” Lestrade smirked, then he lined himself up with Sherlock’s hole and pushed.

The consulting detective keened around his mouthful and his body started shaking. Lestrade was working him over far too slowly, he needed more. Sherlock gave an undulation, rolling his hips, torn now between performing his given task and chasing his desire. 

Greg was holding onto Sherlock’s hips tightly, tight enough to bruise. “I know what you like, slut.” He started moving faster, falling into a steady, punishing rhythm.

Grasping Sherlock by the hair to keep him still, Paul started fucking his face.

The two DIs worked together to take the consulting detective apart. His vision swam - he couldn’t get a proper lungful of air. Soon enough his body went taut as tendrils of electricity seemed to traverse his body. They started at his groin and radiated outwards carrying the pleasure through his every muscle.

Greg groaned above him, feeling the clenching and fluttering of Sherlock’s hole. “So fucking good, you are,” he breathed out as he shuddered and spilt into Sherlock’s quivering passage.

Dimmock, eyes opened wide in amazement, was close behind. He tried to push Sherlock back, tried to give warning, but the consulting detective would have none of it. Sherlock swallowed greedily, looking up the whole time to observe Paul’s very satisfying reaction.

Tentatively, Sherlock sat back on his heels only to be pulled over backwards by Greg. They landed on the floor in a pile of limbs. Paul collapsed next to them.

Lestrade, took Sherlock’s chin in his hand and drew his face near, pressing a kiss to the consulting detective’s swollen lips. “Alright?” he asked when they broke apart.

Sherlock, soft and pliant, was unable to find the necessary words to reply, so he kissed Greg again, hoping that would convey his immense satisfaction.

Next to them, Paul sighed and threw a hand over his eyes. Sherlock snaked out an arm and pulled him into their tangle of limbs, giving a small hum of satisfaction.

Sometime later, Greg woke to find Sherlock staring at him, his head resting on Lestrade’s shoulder. He didn’t even remember falling asleep. Dimock’s head was resting on Greg’s chest and he was snoring softly.

In his dry way, Sherlock spoke, “That was… more than acceptable, Greg.”

“Oi!” Greg had whispered it, not wanting to disturb Dimock. “Cheeky bastard.”

“John doesn’t get back from the conference for another day.” Sherlock was trying to sound offhanded, but it wasn’t working. “We could have another go, if you like.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Sherlock, but we’re not all as young as you. It might take me a while to recover.”

The consulting detective pouted for a moment then he perked up. “Then you can simply watch.” He poked the third man in their threesome. “Dimmock, wake up.”

Lestrade smiled. Watching. Right. His cock gave an interested twitch. Maybe recovery wouldn’t take him quite so long as he had thought.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to podfic or translate this or create a drawing based on it, go for it. Just please let me know and link back to my fic.
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](http://shippingintothenight.tumblr.com).


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